


I'm not the man they think I am at home

by paddingtonfan69



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Elton John - Freeform, F/F, Gen, Post-3x05, Sibling Bonding, i love this gay child, i only want him happy, something light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paddingtonfan69/pseuds/paddingtonfan69
Summary: “Did you even listen to what I told you?”“Of course. We are at an Elton John concert and you are my gay little brother. Do you think it will be much longer? These seats are disgusting.”“Do you not have a reaction?”“To the seats? Yes, I hate them so much that I want to go home and set these pants on fire. And I like these pants.”“I said I am gay,” Bor’ka says, louder.___Aka two queers go see Elton.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 78
Kudos: 433





	I'm not the man they think I am at home

**Author's Note:**

> After this week's episode, all I wanted was a wholesome tale of Villanelle taking Bor'ka to see Elton John. And here we are. Set about a year after the episode (the tour is set to be in London in December 2020, but who knows what the KE timeline is).

Bor’ka doesn’t know what makes him say it. Perhaps it is the beer sitting warmly in his stomach, or the energy of the arena, or the many men clad in sequins and feathers and hats that Bor’ka had only imagined he could see in the flesh one day. Perhaps it is the fact that this is another secret he has had to carry over the last year, and he does not like the way that all these secrets make his stomach hurt and his eyes refuse to close at night. 

Perhaps it is Elton. It is always Elton, really. 

“I think I am gay,” he blurts out. 

He squeezes his eyes shut after the admission, let’s the noise and laughter and yells of the crowd fill his ears. He tries not to think of how his mother would have reacted, how her face would have contorted until she spat out vile things at him. He forces his eyes open. She is not here, he reminds himself. She is dead. 

Beside him, the woman who killed her laughs. Bor’ka had never heard anyone whose laugh sounds like an actual “ha ha ha” before he met Oksana, but that is what her laugh sounds like. Her _laugh_ at his admission that kept him awake for days on end. 

“It is not funny!” he protests, “people have been killed for that kind of thing.”

Her face turns serious all of a sudden, so quickly that he has to blink. “I know what people have been killed for.”

Her hand grabs his arm and holds it tight. He feels his heart hammer through his ribs as she holds his gaze. Then, just as suddenly as it went away, her laughter is back again. 

“Kidding,” she says, letting his arm go and holding up her hands in mock surrender. She nods her head toward the stage. “So when is he going to start anyway? I’m bored.”

“Did you even listen to what I told you?”

“Of course. We are at an Elton John concert and you are my gay little brother. Do you think it will be much longer? These seats are disgusting.”

“Do you not have a reaction?”

“To the seats? Yes, I hate them so much that I want to go home and set these pants on fire. And I like these pants.”

“I said I am _gay,”_ Bor’ka says, louder. 

So loud that a man behind them, with a tank top that shows most of his chest, except what is being covered by a bright orange feather boa grins at Bor’ka and says, “coming out at an Elton concert, eh? Good on ya, mate, welcome to the club.”

“Thank you, stranger,” Bor’ka says pointedly. 

Oksana rolls her eyes, rolls her whole head really, before reluctantly saying, “thank you for telling me you are gay. I will pretend I did not already know.”

“You knew?”

“To be fair, love,” the friendly stranger interjects, “you are _here_.” He gestures around the arena. 

“You should have seen his bedroom,” Oksana says with a grin.

“You ruined my bedroom!” Bor’ka yells. Childishly, he knows. He has to stop being so childish. He lives in England now. He goes to Elton John concerts now. He is gay now. He should not be so upset about his bedroom. He should probably be more upset about the rest of it, but right now he just glares daggers at his dumb sister. 

“I am sorry about your bedroom,” Oksana grumbles in a way that he knows means she’s not sorry. 

“No, you are not.”

She shrugs. “You are right, I’m not.” She sighs, then. “So, are you in love with a boy?”

Bor’ka feels his cheeks turn pink. He tries to make them stop. They do not. 

“So there is a boy, then!” The stranger exclaims. 

“Why does this man keep talking to us?” Oksana asks.

The stranger pays her no mind, pulling another man with bare arms toward them. Bor’ka looks at their clasped hands, their smiles, the way they press up against each other and feels a sort of wonderment that he’s only allowed himself to feel since he left Russia. 

“Gerald, look at this precious Russian boy, who just came out,” the stranger coos.

“I am not Russian! I am English, just like Elton!”

The two men look at each other and share a smile, like the thousands of other people in the stadium don’t exist. 

“Of course you are, love,” the one called Gerald says, fondly.

Beside him, Oksana groans. “When will this thing start already?”

“You cannot rush the master,” Bor’ka says solemnly. His new friends behind him nod their approval. 

Oksana begins to grumble something back, but then stops abruptly. Something comes over her face like nothing Bor’ka has seen before. It is a smile, but not the one when she’s laughing or eating, but a new one, so big that it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly standing up out of her seat, so quickly that the seat bangs against the back of the chair with a loud _smack._

Bor’ka turns to where she’s looking. At the end of their row, there is a woman with a long coat and big hair who slowly makes her way through the seas of extravagant outfits toward them. When she gets closer, Bor’ka can tell she is angry. No one should be angry at the Elton concert. But then, when she gets even closer it seems like the woman is angry at Oksana, which he can understand. Maybe she killed this lady’s parents too. 

“Is that your girlfriend, then?” The stranger behind them asks, with a tease in his voice. 

“Yes,” Oksana breathes.

“You have a _girlfriend?”_ Bor’ka hears how loud his voice is, even in the crowded arena. 

The woman is now closer, standing in front of the empty seat next to Bor’ka. She looks down at him, then up at Oksana.

“Why did you tell this kid I’m your girlfriend? And who is this kid? And why, for the love of God, did you make me come to an Elton John concert for whatever your emergency is?”

“Make you come here?” Bor’ka asks, incredulous. “This is his farewell tour. There might not be another chance to see him. You should be lucky to be here.”

“What my brother said,” Oksana says, with a crooked smile. 

“Your _brother?_ ” The woman looks at him again, as if he is a puzzle she cannot figure out. “Well, that wasn’t in your fucking file.”

“You’ve been looking at my file again? You flirt.”

“Ha ha,” the woman says. She does not mean her “ha ha”s like Oksana does, simply says them flatly. “Seriously, what am I doing here? You said it was urgent.”

“It _is_ urgent. I have already been sitting here an hour with my gay brother and the show hasn’t even started. I need you here to keep me company.”

This woman’s eye roll, Bor’ka decides, is even more extreme than Oksana’s.

“Christ. You said things like urgent, and emergency, and intel, so of course I thought it was about,” she glances around quickly, “what we were working on, but no, it’s just a weird... date. At an Elton John concert. With your brother. You have a brother?”

“Sit down, Eve,” Oksana gestures to the seat on the other side of her. 

“You know I have better things to do than watch an Elton John concert with you and this kid you say is your brother.”

“He _is_ my brother,” Oksana says at the same time Bor’ka snaps, “there is nothing better to do than watch Elton.”

The woman, Eve, he supposes, just blinks at them. Then, she releases a long, loud sigh, and sits down in the seat next to Oksana. This makes Oksana smile her big smile again. 

“So you are girlfriends?” Bor’ka asks. 

Oksana says, “Yes.” 

Eve says, “No.”

“You should figure that out,” he tells them. 

Oksana nods solemnly, before turning to Eve. “He’s right, you know.”

“Shut up,” Eve says, but there is a tiny smile hinting at her mouth. Bor’ka thinks this woman likes Oksana, even though she really doesn’t want to. He smiles. He can relate to this angry woman.

“He is gay, by the way,” Oksana says, out of nowhere. Bor’ka feels his cheeks redden again. “He figured it out.”

Bor’ka would like to sink into the ground like one of Elton’s pianos. 

“Good for you, kid,” Eve says with more of a real smile this time. 

“Thank you.” He turns to Oksana. “Why is everyone nicer to me about it than you are?”

This makes Eve laugh, not the “ha ha” of Oksana, but more of a long chuckle. It makes Oksana smile, that laugh.

“Eve is probably being nice to you because she also realized she was gay after everyone else already knew.”

Eve’s angry look is back. “That is not what happened.”

“Okay, then how to you explain last week when-”

She’s cut off by Eve’s hand on her mouth. Bor’ka is pretty sure she is her girlfriend at that point because she is behaving exactly how the girls at his new English school behave when they like a boy. How he wishes he could behave. 

“Killer pre-show entertainment,” the stranger behind him says with a smile.

“The drama!” his other half adds.

Eve turns to look at them. “Are these your brothers too?” 

“Please,” Oksana scoffs, “I only have one gay brother.”

She leans over and ruffles Bor’ka’s hair. He flinches away. He _styled_ it for this concert and she can’t just ruin it like this. He shoves her off.

“I regret telling you that.”

“Smart kid,” Eve notes. 

“He takes after me,” Oksana says with a smile. 

“I barely know you,” Bor’ka protests. 

“I’m gonna need the full backstory on this later,” Eve says to Oksana.

“It’s a date.”

“That’s not what I meant, Villanelle.”

Bor’ka has a lot of questions. Why did the Eve lady call Oksana by the wrong name? Are they girlfriends? Is Oksana _also_ gay? Did he make a mistake telling her that he was gay? Why does he still tell her things after everything she’s done makes it clear he should not trust her? His questions can wait though. Because the lights start to lower. Familiar piano notes waft over the speakers. 

“Finally,” he hears Oksana exclaim, but he doesn't care. He doesn’t care about it all. His family, his new life, every bad thing that has happened in the past year doesn’t matter. All that matters is Elton. 

When a blindingly sparkling piano emerges from the stage, Bor’ka thinks, in this moment, that there is no one in the world who is as happy as he is. 


End file.
